


A leap of faith

by Sagealina



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Gore, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagealina/pseuds/Sagealina
Summary: Geostigma had affected many. Not the least of which had been Cloud and the source of his unwillingness to move forward in his life. While he'd been healed in more ways than one, there was another victim of Jenovah who'd avoided the lifestream's cure. Who'd known more about it than anyone else and who had fought alongside Avalanche against the new threat.And whilst all of them had been overjoyed and mingling with friends again. He'd been the first to leave in a hurry.For those touched by Jenova and ShinRa, the road to heal was never easy. Whilst Cloud was willing to fight, perhaps he could convince Vincent to follow him- just as he had in other battles.But...it may take, a leap of faith to do so. And the gulf seems frightening.
Relationships: Cloud Strife/Vincent Valentine
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	A leap of faith

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old work of mine, which after years of consideration. I have decided to post after much editing. The tags may change as I post more chapter. I intend 3 with (perhaps) and epilogue. Who knows? We'll see.

o0o 1 month after the Remnants fight. o0o

It was during the blanket of night, that the haphazard bits of polished metal and broken glass of sector 5 looked like shooting stars. As Fenrir's headlights passed them at blazing speeds. Cloud followed a well-known path. Traveling during the night in this area could be dangerous on account of all the rubble. But he had ridden it too many times not to know all of it's twists and turns by heart. Committed firmly to memory. 

The light caught various pieces of reflective nature. Throwing back rays of many colours and hues in kaleidoscopic expressions. Headless of the past destruction and sorrow around this beautiful spectacle, the blonde rode on amidst these faerie fires. Lights of silver, pink, blue and white sparkled. Until an oddly miss-placed flash of stark brass and gold caught his attention, followed immediately by a strangled surprised non-human cry.

“WARK!”

The ex-SOLDIER's reflexes had not deserted him. Instinctively slowing his bike and turning roughly to the side to break his speed faster. Turning expertly around on itself in a slidding skidding moment. Creating dust just as much as he jarred and breake the tranquil silence of the night with tire screeches. 

Riding without his glasses since they were the shaded-kind. Cloud squints in the pitch mauve blackness of late evening, training his headlights. Soon crossing them on what he now recognized was as an alarmed black-feathered Chocobo. Dually difficult to have noticed it in the night. He focused his headlight just in time to see the silhouette of its rider drop from it's back. It's head lowers in exhaustion, panting. The large bird prancing nervously from foot to foot, too well trained to bolt with the loss of weight on its back. The Chocobo shuffled and pulls on it's bridle straps. Which are still held firmly in the grip of it's owner. Its own clawed foot seemingly caught in it's riders red cape.

Cape?

“Vincent!” 

Cloud quickly jumps off Fenrir, kicking his leg over the vehicle and in near automatism- the stand up. Hastefuly in large strides moving towards the prone figure. Now closer, the black steed he recognized as Gloss. A black he'd bred and gifted to Vincent years ago, as the two shared an interest in raising the creatures. The swordsman gently placed a hand on the raven haired man's shoulder once. Squeezing and retracting it to signal his presence to the gunman.

“Vincent?!”

“Hnn?” 

The gunslinger wasn't unconscious, yet seemed out of sorts and had the odd characteristic of one delirious with fatigue. What could have weakened or harmed Vincent Valentine to this state? 

The caped man shuffled and propped himself up shacking. A black leather-clad gloved hand gesturing the blonde away dismissively. 

Cloud moved. If there was a thing he knew about Vincent, it was that he was a proud individual. The swordsman hesitated to touch the other if he didn't immediately require it. He knew, he himself wouldn't have had appreciate the overbearing and worrisome gesture either. 

It was dark and in the headlight's illumination Cloud could only see Vincent's collar. The Ex-Turk, as was his habit, had lowered his head into the crook of his mantle and slowly got up without a word. Taking a deep breath, watching Cloud with the same glowing eyes which didn't require a light source to see in this sort of darkness.

What showed itself to the blonde was exhausted pained ruby eyes.

“...”

It was odd sometimes, the way they spoke non verbally. In the strange language of close comrades and blood-brothers.

There was an air of both tension and relaxation. A sort of gladness for the other's presence yet also embarrassment and awkwardness at the same time. The blonde had never figured out why he felt this fluttering in the gunman's presence. He imagined Vincent might feel otherwise, but the older man acted differently around him alone, than in the company of others. 

Cloud cocked his head slightly in query and then took in the state of Gloss. The poor bird, startled as it had been, was simply too exhausted to have gotten far after being freed from Vincent's cape. If the black chocobo was as tired as it was with it's well known bred-stamina, it meant Vincent had travelled an arduous journey to get here with some... speed.

“Come on, you look like you're gonna keel over! The church isn't far. We'll walk.”

Cloud went to grab the bird's reigns to direct it for the short trek. He was naturally worried for his comrade in arms. But the former Turk didn't say a word and followed the blond in a mockery of his usual grace. 

Walking stiffly, concealing greater wounds and his fatigue. For pride's sake.

Rolling and dragging both his bike and the Chocobo, Cloud kept his own thoughts to himself as they reached the Church. He'd guessed it had been Vincent's destination. Since the man didn't say anything as they continued. Again an instance of that odd reading they did towards each other.

The church stood, not hauntingly or dreadful after being shaken in Cloud and Kadaj's clash, but beautifully clean. Even in it's odd ramshackled state, it seemed to stand like stonehenge. Ancient amidst the destruction of Midgar around it. Unique amongst so much same-destruction. As they passed the entrance Vincent leaned on the door's frame with his good hand and let out a heavilly rasping breath. Cloud let go of the Chocobo. The bird immediately went to the large pool and drank glutinously from it. Shadows clung to the building and only the silhouette and gleam of Vincent's claw could be seen.

“Are you badly hurt ?” -a statement rather than a question. One which Cloud forced the Ex-Turk to confirm. More for the gunmans' sake to confirm the gravitute of his own injuries, than his own worry.

It was more often-than not in the past. That healing Vincent Valentine was a struggle. Cloud had learnt to be more direct in his approach to after-battle care when it came to the other man. As a part of a routine, rather than an approachable way to create bonds of friendship. 

Ruby eyes lifted from the shadows of a cloaked mantle. The ominous twin red stars eerie in the shadows. Looking as if floating as he standood at the church's doorway. Since it was so dark outside, Vincent's silhouette was indecipherable from the outside. The ruby orbs blinked and stayed at half mast. The head perceptively turning slightly aside in defeat of admitting it. 

-Yes- his body posture told him as much, to the SOLDIER that had been with him for so long.

Cloud walked quickly to his supplies which he kept in a wooden box inside the church. Lifting an oil lamp expertly, lighting it promptly. He didn't have the ex-Turk's night vision and, as the lamp sputtered awake, he walked back towards the doorframe. Without permission (repercussions be dammed), he hoisted the golden clawed arm over his neckand left shoulder, bracing him. Supporting the taller man, he moved Vincent to the unused cot, over debrie that he might have stumbled and tired him furthur hadn't he had Cloud to support him. 

He hadn't been living in this place for near a month, after the battle with the Remnants. The padded mattress set on the floor was old and dusty but at least hadn't molded since it was made of artificial fibres. It served it's purpose once more as a resting place.

“Where ?” Cloud leaned over him examining visually. He set his wounded friend into as comfortable a seated position as he could manage.

The ex-Turk held his eyes for a moment. A strange battle of wills took place. Vincent's inner pride, a wounded being who struggles to repel and keep quiet any of his weakness, whilst also simultaneously humanely wishing strongly for assistance. It could be seen in the turmoil of his locked stare with the blonde. He always had been split in his decisions like that, and cold whenever he accepted any sort of help. 

Cloud liked to think he had insight into the mind of the other man. He'd been just like that for a long while as well. 

Still was, in some measures... but he was getting better at accepting others in his life nowadays.

The oil lamp's flame sputtered and basked the immediate area with a soft orange light. Which had the shadows acting like waves of an ocean on its beach. Lapping everything, moving back and forth with the light slowly an in a regular dance. Cloud's blue eyes defied the darkness, eerily glowing just like Vincent's and the younger man stood up. Obviously frustrated at his mute comrade's unwillingness to have his help. The swordsman turned his back to the gunman and moved towards the lamp, getting rid of unnecessary gear starting with his sword harness and gloves. Reaching for his cellphone he placed it near the lamp and sighed frustrated.

“Cloud... why are you back here again?”

The question was spoken in a low voice, underlined with pain. 

Vincent frustrated Cloud... He was trying to distract him. But the ex-Soldier realized that it was because the other man reminded him of himself that it bothered him at all.

“Don't try to change the subject and cover up Vincent. You're badly hurt. What happened?”

The gunman dropped further back down the mattress. Almost lying down but still propped on his golden claw's elbow, the rest of his body turned to the left, the ex-turk untied the ties to his cape at his back. Vincent stayed in this vulnerable position for a moment before lifting his face back up to look at the blond swordsman again. Cloud could see it clearly now. 

Geostigma. 

Damned highly advanced geostigma by the looks of it too! 

Tendrils of the sores lined like growing vines up the sides of Vincent's neck, which was the only area he could see with the faint lamp light, some of the tendrils of black plague almost seemed to dance with the flame's shadow-play.

“Shiva... Why did you wait so long ? Why even...” 

The gunman's glowing eyes blinked once. In a dumbfounded expression . Which lowered as Vincent brought his right hand to his mouth and removed the leather glove. The geostigma snaked around it as well. Cloud felt a large ball of bile at the back of his throat. Which seemed to settle there, remembering the feeling of the diseased flesh on his own arm. Crawlingly wrong, wretchedly painful.

“The water burns...”

“What?” Cloud's head snapped back at the life-spring, welling up from the church centre of the church.

“The water... it burns me.” 

But that couldn't be... could it? Cloud deadpanned. Why cure everyone seamlessly. But it not having same effect withVincent Valentine? 

The blond's blue aquamarine eyes snapped back again to the blood garnet ones. There was a resigned sort of exasperation in the older man. Almost an annoyance towards the swordsman. Unwilling to believe the ex-Turk, Cloud went to the spring. Passing next to his gear he fished a cup and collected some of the sacred liquid and returned to Vincent's side. The gunman pulled minutely back in reluctance. Oh. So he'd tried it before then? And then what?

The blond held out his hand to the other's.

“It'll burn...”

“May I still ?”

With a dejected sigh, the raven haired man propped himself into a shaky sitting position. Lifting his diseased right arm to assuage the swordsman's curiosity. Even the fingers weren't spared the vile leprous-looking infection. Well... it certainly explained why Vincent had known so much about Geostigma when they had met in the forgotten city. 

The gunman might even had been in a more advanced state than he had. Though hadn't showed it. Were the Ex-Turk's mysterious genetic modification partly to blame? Cloud didn't know the full details of the horrors which Vincent had lived through as an experiment. But he himself knew what the mad scientist could do. It was something they shared in common – though their experiences and the consequences differed. 

The swordman sat down crosslegged next to the raven haired man. Delicately, in an almost contradiction to his enormous brute strength in his build Cloud brushed Vincent's fingers and dipped them in the cup.

Surprisingly there wasn't the tranquil green sparkle like everyone else had had, but a red blistering... Like a plastic cracking as well as a bubbling effect. Creating a small trail of steam which rose from the sick man's skin as if he was an iceberg in humid climes. Vincent hissed then sharply inhaled through his nose, but otherwise kept his fingers still. When the crackling stopped the blond lowered the cup and watched the fingers dripping with puzzle amazement.. 

The geostigma had indeed lifted and the fingers where, from what he could tell by the flame light, tenderly red as if rubbed raw. Yet Healing fast, as he watched. The swordman, in innocence of the moment, passed an ungloved hand on the other's fingers gently. The calloused tips of his fingers rough on raw delicate skin of the other man.

“It works but...” Vincent withdrew his hand abruptly, the overlong human touch making feel odd. “It's Chaos...” The blond's hair neck hairs raised. The younger swordsman head tilted to the side in question. 

The Ex-Turk continued “It's part... yet not part of the lifestream. Jenova's legacy can't kill me... but both of them fight in my body, as they heal it continuously in some sort of biological tug of war.”

Cloud thought it made... some sort of sense. He had felt a soothing tingle in on his arm where he'd been cured. If it was painful for the ex-Turk, then it would only hurt in the areas he was affected right? It looked like around the neck and arm.

“It's a one-time shot of pain where it's at. Don't think you can take a little of it?” He took liberties with his comrade-in arms. They were friends. His mako eyes crinkled at the corners and a part of his lips pulled in a small teasing sneer.

Vincent remained silent and avoided looking at him, grabbing the rim of his black collar tops worrying it with his newly cured fingers. Lying back down on the mattress, as if he'd finally abandoned somesort of fight.

“It's... everywhere...” The raven haired man said calmly and factually.

“Oh...” 

Cloud turned to look at the lamp's light then frustratingly past his left hand in his hair. Looking up he then rubbed his fingers on his chin in an odd habit he'd picked up from Zack. He stayed seated there for a while, Vincent lying on his back looking up at patches of the sky through the hole in the roof.

“Get rid of it in one shot!”

The gunman turned to see a very determined and set expression on the former Avalanche-leader's face.

“Get rid of it one-shot and it'll be done. That's it. It lasted maybe.... What? 20 seconds? Do your fingers still hurt?”

The ex-turk lifted his diseased arm and hand and flexed the fingers. “ I can barely feel my arm...but I suppose they do not?” Came the disspationate response with just the small inflection of what Cloud detected as...Dare he say; hope?

“Then just take a leap of faith and have it done with! The longer you stay like this, the longer you'll keep suffering from the ache of Geostigma.”

The blond reverted to the more forceful and cheerful Zack-like personality he used when leading or suggesting plans of action. It wasn't as if he was fooling himself, he wasn't anyone's leader anymore. Not for the last 2 or so years anyways. 

However, the blonde wouldn't... couldn't leave a former comrade in arm suffering by their own indecisions either. Frankly... he thought that even the great Vincent Valentine (as Yuffie like to call him), was simply afraid of being alone while hurt.

Vincent wasn't answering him, but he was still looking at Cloud with an almost expectant look in his eyes. Incredibly weakened, the raven haired man stayed prone. The ruby eyes focused and gave a non-verbal look which communicated. That the would take up his suggestion, but couldn't execute this leap alone.

“I'll help... if you'll let me.”

The gunman lifted his cured fingers for observation, weighing the pain which he'd received and imagining the pain which he would suffer once more. Immersing himself in it. He'd suffered much worse before. Much, much worse! In the hands of a good friend could he go through such a thing again? Vincent's gazed longly at his hand then into the blue cerulean depths and had his answer.

Yes...In those ruby eyes. The emotion Cloud read in them was hope.

o0o


End file.
